A Long Road to Fortune/Issue 33
This is the third issue in Volume 6 of A Long Road to Fortune. It is titled A Toast to the Future. Issue 33 It has to be around 8 in the morning on this new day. The sky shines brightly on the town directly underneath it, though the meticulous sunlight intrudes every single one of the homes in the zocalo, forcing its way in through uncovered windows. In one house in particular, it suddenly pelts the young Max Gomes in the face, who has been enjoying an amazing bowl of Froot Loops he’s grateful for eating, up until now. Instinctively he frowns and covers his eyes from the sunlight. He grumbles slightly and stands up to his feet, carrying his bowl of cereal along with him. He walks around the table and instead sits next to his mother Sandra, who is currently enjoying the same meal. “Dumb sun.” Max mutters before continuing to eat his much praised bowl of cereal. Froot Loops have been his favorite his whole life. He’s eaten them since the age of 3 for as long as he could remember. So when a box resurfaced amidst the dead world, Max felt more than content. He savors every spoonful, not knowing when another box would come into his life. Sandra watches her son’s enthusiasm at his side. In truth, cereal has never been her thing, not even as a little girl. But hey, breakfast is breakfast, and god knows she needs it. Max is too busy eating to notice his mother peeking and chuckling at him. He’s got important business that demands his attention after all. So Sandra instead focuses on today’s schedule. She’s off with nothing to do unless a surprise injury comes about and someone needs medical assistance. Just one note of inventory and she can do whatever the hell she wants, so she’s taking her time trying to enjoy this bowl without a single worry in her mind. Max is excited today, reason being that it’s been 2 days since his last survivalist training with Ashton so today Ashton gets to teach him again. In particular, today’s lesson will be on how to use guns. It wasn’t too hard for Sandra to allow Ashton to teach her son how to survive. After all, it was much better than having Max run around with Jose and the other marketplace guards or even with Pepe and the military guys to get some training that way. She likes Ashton however, he’s a good kid who’s incredibly selfless and the fact that he and Max get along quite well makes him the sole person she trusts in teaching her son the art of survival in the infected apocalypse. “So, excited huh?” Sandra asks Max. He’s finishing up the rest of his cereal while Sandra waits for an answer. “Yup. Today Ashton is finally teaching me how to shoot, so yes mom, I’m excited!” Max replies with glee. “I can’t believe you finally let him!” he adds. Sandra smiles. “Consider it an early birthday present.” “Do I get my own gun too?” “Nice try, but no. Take it easy honey. You haven’t began to train and you already want to carry a gun?” she replies. Max is defeated and he knows this, so he lets out a final reply. “Can’t blame me for trying, right?” he says while shrugging. “Yes, yes I can!” Sandra replies with a laugh. Max however, comes up with another idea. He grabs his bowl and lets the milk slowly fall into his mouth. “Then can I have another bowl, please?” he asks diligently. “You want the cereal to last don’t you? You said so yourself Max, you don’t know when you’ll get another box, if ever…” she lectures her son and gives him an indirect no. Max hated the way parents did this...this indirect answer thing that ultimately leaves you desiring the thing you asked for that much more. “Please, mom?” Max begs. “You can have another bowl tomorrow morning.” her final reply. “Alright then. Looks like I won’t sleep tonight.” he replies. Soon after, Max heads out the front door for a walk around the zocalo and still can’t believe at the community he’s feasting his eyes on. The zocalo wasn’t just a meager place to live anymore, as now it had expanded greatly, much more than it had five months ago. Not only that, more people did so as well. As Max walked around happily he could spot the survivors they’ve rescued over the months as well as Mario and the twins. There weren’t many but still something amazing in this young boy’s eyes. The best was also the fact that nobody has lost their life anymore. The town was truly being taken back piece by piece. While walking many others also wave at him, the new people and even Daniel. Max walks close by to Daniel. “Hey Max, how are you, how’s your mom?” he asks intently. “We’re pretty good, thanks!” he replies. “Good to hear! Tell her Mendoza is looking for her when you see her again alright? It’s urgent stuff” he asks Max, who nods in reply. “For sure. Bye!” Max waves as he continues his walk. Among the people taking socializing he could see both the Barrera and Suares families without their children, talking to adults Max didn’t recognize but they sure did. Max suddenly got into focus and heard a rock shift behind. He smiles and turns swiftly, catching sight of Paco Barrera. “You made too much noise this time! Idiot!” Max taunts the younger boy, tongue sticking out and everything. Paco fumes up and tags Max, running away from him seconds later. “Bet you can’t catch me!” Paco says as he runs. Max gets a determined look of confidence suddenly plastered in his face and soon after he’s off like a rocket, in Paco’s pursuit without stopping. “Paco stop running!” is what both Leslie and Jacobo yell but neither of the boys listen. After all, playtime in the apocalypse is a sacred thing. ---- But then again, not everybody amongst the people had seen the light of happiness. One man in particular just sat on the sidewalk in front of an old home in the zocalo. This is far from the house where he has spent the last 10 years living, years that were easily the best of his life, but this home belonged to him now. No room to complain he admits. This loner is Santiago Hernandez who currently marvels at the happiness he sees painted on all the people’s faces. They have reason to smile, but Santiago doesn’t. He has nothing to do with his life now. He can’t fully appreciate the shelter he’s been given. Weeks or months alone, he can’t recall, he never really had a home to call his own, wandering as far away as possible from his aunt and uncle’s home. Ever since then, his bloody knife has been his only companion. As he sits looking, he keeps his eyes open as much as he can. Closing them makes him feel like nothing changed at all, he’s been here before countless times. Entering the sanctuary of the Tecpan Safe Zone, as the leader Mendoza has taken to calling it, he still doesn’t sleep at night. The sight of his brother and that scum that killed his aunt and uncle come into view every time. He can’t shake them off and seeing them only makes his blood boil, so relaxing is out of the question. Right now, he just wished he knew what to do with his meager existence. While focusing on shutting off the memory of his family, Santiago’s snapped out of his thoughts by a voice, but not just any voice. This is the voice of that one kid everybody calls Curly, whose real name he’s never shown interest in knowing. The kid eats an apple while looking down at Santiago. He chews loudly and obnoxiously, with his mouth wide open. Santiago can see the apple chunks slowly turn into applesauce within Curly’s mouth. He continues to look down at Santiago who at this point is looking back at the boy, trying to hide his annoyance. “Something you want?” Santiago asks Curly. Curly takes his sweet time answering the man as he finishes swallowing a piece of apple. “Nah. But now that you mention it, you look familiar.” Curly replies. “Everybody in Tecpan has driven past me at least once. I worked at the dealership.” Santiago calmly replies. “I remember you now...you’re that short white guy. Yeah I knew it. So how long have you been here?” Curly asks with his mouth full. “Two weeks, give or take.” is his simple reply. He’s not feeling like chattering today and quit frankly, Curly is pestering him. “And they gave you a two story house all to yourself? I’ve been here for five months and all I got is a stupid bungalow. How is that fair?” Curly complains. Santiago simply sighs. The kid just came here to nag him. “I don’t know why alright? Looks to me like you do nothing around these parts anyway. Maybe that’s why they won’t bother with you.” Santiago retorts. He’s completely right about Curly, who is the safe zone’s primary leech. “You don’t do shit either. Yet look, a big fucking house.” “Yeah I know but two weeks of laziness ain’t shit compared to 5 months. So quit being a cocky little shit kid.” “Whatever…” Curly replies. With that he’s off to do whatever else he does with his life now. Santiago looks at the kid walk away, completely pathetic in his eyes yet he is so shameless about it. This was not going to be him too, not a chance in hell. So Santiago rises from his spot in the sidewalk and wanders around town. The first person he sees is a military soldier, going by the name of Jaime if he recalls correctly. He’s simply standing there cocking his rifle with a frown in his face. Santiago knew this man wasn’t in the mood for talking...but then again, neither was he. So he begrudgingly speaks to him. “Hey, Jaime right? Have you seen your sergeant around?” he asks. Jaime doesn’t bother to look at him to reply. “Office. Marketplace.” Jaime answers while still looking at his rifle. “Alright, thanks I guess.” After that, Santiago leaves and Jaime is left alone with the rifle once more. But the rifle doesn’t belong to Jaime, it belonged to none other than Aguila, who Jaime still can’t let go off. Santiago reaches the town’s now mostly abandoned marketplace. In fact, the only people still inhabiting the place are Mendoza and his soldiers who decided the survivors they have been keeping safe for so long deserve the luxury of the homes. Staying in the marketplace is fine with them. He knocks on the door to what he presumes is Mendoza’s office and soon enough he hears a voice come from the other side. “Come in!” Mendoza calls out. As soon as Santiago shows up past the door, Mendoza is caught off guard. After all, he was expecting Sandra Gomes. “Hello sergeant.” Santiago says politely. He sees no reason to be rude to the man who gave him food and shelter, just respect. In fact, there probably wasn’t a single person who didn’t respect Mendoza to some degree. “What can I do for you?” he asks Santiago. “‘I’ve been meaning to start contributing to...all of this. Are there any fronts you need assistance with? I’m fine with anything manual labor.” he adds after asking. “We can always use hands with the expansion duties. If we plan to take the town back we’ll need to continue clearing out more streets and whatnot. Talk to Pepe, he’ll get you started.” Mendoza replies. “Yeah, I know him. I guess I’ll go see him...thank your-- sir.” that last sir was not easy for Santiago to say but it managed to escape his mouth nonetheless. Soon enough, he’s out the door. ---- “Alright sooo…” Jose screams. “Who want’s to try and hit the dummy next?” he adds. Jose and five others currently stand atop the church’s top floor, looking down at the street below them. Not a single grosero in sight but rather numerous objects laid out. This is what is known within the safe zone as guard training and Jose is the proud professor. “I’ll go.” a voice calls out behind Jose. Jose looks back at the source of the voice and smiles. He’s looking directly at Fausto. “Okay good, come over here and take aim!” Jose exclaims. Fausto wastes no time in taking his position next to Jose and grabs the rifle as soon as Jose hands it over to him. “I want you to hit it this time Fausto, alright? That red bucket over there.” Jose tells him as Fausto readily takes aim. “Focus now, you don’t want to let Yvette stay a better shot than you do you?” Jose tells him. A good attempt at pep talk. Fausto focuses deeply and looks through the scope at the object below. He instinctively sticks his tongue out of his mouth while aiming closely. A second later he fires-- but just barely misses his target. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he tries again. “It’s easy Fausto, so easy Mimi could do it” he mutters to himself. Another shot is taken and another shot is missed. Fausto sighs in anger. “You jitter too much Fausto, try relaxing those arms next and pay attention to the way the wind is blowing. Third time’s the charm.” Jose lectures him. Fausto follows his advice relaxes, knowing he’s not under pressure whatsoever. So he takes a deep breath and shoots. The bucket flies back into the air as it is hit by the bullet. “Yes! Woo-hoo!” Fausto celebrates. “Great shot Fausto, really great! If that was a grosero, you would have blown the head clean off!” Jose says with glee. Fausto smiles. It may only be one of three shots he’s able to land with a rifle so far but he’s not in a hurry to become the next Jose Quintero. ---- Inside a nearby building, Yvette and Zarez can faintly hear the shots. Yvette gazes out the window and sees the gun fire. Fausto doing his signature success jig. She chuckles once catching glimpse of it. “So, how you do like this profession miss?” Zarez asks Yvette, who suddenly turns back to look at him. “It’s refreshing Mr. Zarez! I’ve been so out of academics these last couple of months that I was driving myself crazy with just my thoughts!” she exclaims. “Teaching is a human instinct Yvette, without such a thing the human race would still be using sticks and stones for everything!” he replies. Yvette and Zarez had both volunteered to become teachers for the safe zone due to the amount of young ins that had come in the last few months. Last class, Yvette did a head count of 12 students, including Max, Alicia, and Paco. Manny Galeana skipped out. The way she sees it is simple-- just because it’s the end of the world, doesn’t mean it’s the end of learning! Both her and Zarez were currently reorganizing their only classroom. While doing so, Yvette looks at the calendar hung up on the wall. It’s just a single sheet of bond paper, but it has the days and the month all mapped out correctly. It’s currently December 2nd, and the first Christmas of the apocalypse was only 23 days away. “I can’t thank you enough for keeping exact track of the days its been since all of this went down, Mr. Zarez. It’s great to know we’re not completely lost as far as basics go.” Yvette says. Zarez looks back at her from his spot in his desk and gives her a proud smile. “There’s no need to thank me for any of that Yvette. It’s a simple common courtesy for humanity” he replies. Yvette’s attention turns to the notebooks Zarez is currently writing in, who has left Yvette to do all the cleaning herself. “What are you writing about sir? she asks Zarez looks up again. “Oh these notebooks of mine? I’m keeping track of everything we’ve been doing the past 5 months. Us, the people, our achievements, practically our entire world the last 5 months.” he replies. “Really? Why?” Yvette asks, obviously intrigued. “Simple Yvette, the world we used to be a part of is gone. This is the new world. What did the greek philosophers do in their time? Chronicle their thoughts, their world, as did every old civilization.” “Oh” “Don’t you see Yvette? We’re all making history right now, and it’s up to someone to keep track of it all!” he replies with excitement. Yvette’s eyes widen and her mouth is agape, she’d never thought about it like this until now. “That’s brilliant Mr. Zarez! Why didn’t I think of that before?” she asks. “You may be bright Yvette, but you’re still young and your mind lingers on other things. But an old man like me, sees joy in all of this.” Zarez replies. “Well, you’re going to need help re-documenting history then!” Yvette exclaims happily Francisco and Yuri lay on the couch together, sitting soundly and enjoying the nice music that a boombox offers both. Two beers are placed on top of the small table to their front as Yuri continues to lay her head atop Francisco’s chest while wrapping his arm around hers. “Could you be anymore happy right now?” Francisco asks her jokingly, she glances back at him and smiles. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, thank you.” she replies. Living together for five whole months has done wonders for this initially forced relationship. “Is that so? I’m reasonably satisfied then.” he replies slyly. Yuri however, places her head back and forth on Francisco’s chest. “Is it me or has this chest gotten hard?” she asks playfully. Francisco scoffs happily. “Implying it wasn’t already hard.” he replies. “Don’t get too full of yourself now, you still need to make it up to me for the entire week.” she replies. Francisco and Valdez had been venturing out ever farther than el Cerrito in search of supplies with Gustavo and Mimi for the people of Tecpan. With the larger community they possessed now, food was of the essence and lately the supply was beginning to fall short of the standard. So his absence around their home was proving to be frequent, often coming home exhausted at night. Today, Francisco and the other supply runners were off so today,Yuri demanded his company more than ever. As both continue to lay down and relax, both are disturbed by a single, loud knock on the door. They sigh in annoyance before Francisco mouths the words ”I got it” to Yuri, to keep her from standing up. Yet she doesn’t see this and gets up anyway. Yuri opens the door to reveal Mimi and Valdez, the latter holding a basketball. “Hey Yuridia! Is Frank there? We wanna see if he wants to throw some hoops with us.” he asks her. “Hoops? Right now?” she asks. “Yeah, right now! Mimi and I were gonna do a one-on-one-on-one with Frank but you’re welcome to join too! How’s that sound hot stuff?” he elaborates further. “Valdez is really anxious right now, sorry Yuri.” Mimi says. “I don’t think now’s a good time for us, why don’t asks any of your other friends, like Ashton or his pretty girlfriend?” Yuri suggests. “The pretty girlfriend who shot you?” Valdez remarks shamelessly. “Yes Valdez.,.that one.” Yuri replies. “Ooooh…I get it now. Ol’ Franky boy is about to get lucky right? Well why didn’t you just- OW!” Valdez is cut off by a punch to the shoulder from Mimi. “Hey that hurt!” he complains. “Have a damn filter for once!” Mimi retorts. She begins to pull Valdez away with her. “Sorry for the trouble Yuri, we’ll be on our way now! Hehehe…” Mimi says, while grinning uncomfortably. “Valdez is a bit of a dumbass…” she adds. “Yeah...I know. We’re good.” Yuri replies as she waves to the leaving pair. “Tell Frank to use protec-DAMN MIMI!” Valdez is cut off by another punch. Soon after this, Yuri closes the door behind her and sighs. “Valdez?” Frank asks from his spot on the couch. Yuri simply bites her lip annoyed and nods her head. “Well, come on now. The couch and I miss you.”Francisco adds. Minutes later the couple enjoys another relaxing nap until more loud knocks on their door startle the both of them. Widening their eyes in shock, Francisco pats Yuri in the back to let her know that he’s got this time. As Francisco lazily trudges to the door, he yawns. Soon enough he opens to door to reveal the loved boss Gustavo Texta. In his hand is a six pack of beers still in their glass bottles and a small bag of salt and lemons. “How are my two favorite people today!” he yells in glee. ”Um sir, we were actually…” “Nonsense! Drink with me!” Gustavo replies, still cheering. He soon walks past Frank and sets his stuff down on the kitchen table. Yuri sees him and sighs discreetly as Francisco rubs the back of his head and shrugs. So much for an afternoon alone… ---- Paloma and Jesus currently enjoy a meal together inside the latter’s home. It’s been quite a bit since they last got together and talked about their lives. Jesus’ 29th birthday was coming up soon and worry filled him on the inside. Paloma herself was 36 now and still feeling calm and comfortable with her age. Jesus doesn’t see how or why but he’s not about to question Paloma’s stance. “Sooo..that guitar I got for you has been really working huh? I hear you practicing at night Jesus. How about you give us a concert one night?” Paloma suggests. “Sounds pretty good I guess…” he replies. Paloma immediately notices something is off and asks. “Are you alright Jesus? I can easily tell when something’s bothering by you, you oughtta know this by now.” Paloma remarks. Jesus smiles faintly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t wanna turn 29 you know? Another year closer to 30...I just really want to stay young. If that makes sense.” Jesus replies. “You’ll feel old if you’re 30 then? Nothing bad about feeling that way Jesus, we’ve all been there before. I’m 6 years past 30 yet I’m feeling fine about it now. It’s a feeling that goes away and sticks not, don’t worry too much about it.” Paloma replies. Her replies eases Jesus and his smile turns positive. So he continues to grab a mouthful of rice and beans with his fork. “How are things going with you and Liza, Pal?” Jesus asks about Paloma this time. Paloma glances back at him moves her head and forth slightly, to signify a “so-so”. “They’re going well I guess. She’s not as violent now I guess. Still a little cold in the way she speaks but she’s coming around. She’s really only happy when she’s with me or the rest of her friends.” Paloma responds. “When you say she’s coming around...do you mean that she’s finally opening up?” Paloma shakes her head. “She still refuses to tell me about her parents. Not ready yet but I’m giving her time.” “That’s great Pal…” Suddenly an awkward silence fills the air. “Is something wrong Jesus?” she asks. Jesus puts his fork down and looks down to his lap. “It just occurs to me that-- I don’t know much about what you’ve been through. What is it you faced that makes you the way you are?” Jesus asks. “What do you mean?” “What makes you so...violent and rash yet…so serene? There’s a reason to this Paloma, people don’t simply act like that just because.” “Jesus…there’s nothing to tell or say. I am the way I am to survive, to protect myself...to protect you.” Jesus crosses his arms. He is not buying anything Paloma is saying at the moment. He knows she’s holding something back, something big. “Well, alright Pal. But you should know, just because you feel it is your job to care for other people, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t let others do the same for you…” Jesus wraps up. Paloma nods shamefully yet doesn’t say anything else. Perhaps one day, Jesus will know what’s up with this woman. ---- Ashton and Max walk outside the safe zone walls, each holding one of Ashton’s gun handy. In truth, only one of the guns still belonged to Ashton as he had previously given the other to Yvette. She however, was kind enough to lend her gun back to Ashton for Max’s training. Both walk side by side, with the safety on Max’s gun off. The kid was still learning and the last thing Ashton wanted was to catch one from a careless Max. “Well Max, I’m genuinely surprised your mom let me take you outside the walls. I thought she would kill me if I even suggested the idea.” Ashton says. “Nah, my mom trusts you enough. She likes you.” Max responds. Ashton smiles, happy to still have a spot in the heart of the Gomes family. “Hmmm...I can’t seem to find another one.” Ashton says while observing his surroundings. Groseros had been beginning to make themselves scarce lately, something the marketplace inhabitants could all but complain about. “I can’t believe we actually want to find one of those things…” Max says. “Yeah, you need to continue seeing me perform out here Max. I can’t let you kill one yet or your mom most likely will me ‘’me’’.” “Hmmm. Well ok then.” Max replies. He’s annoyed at the fact that so far Ashton has only let him shoot down plastic bottles, which Max thinks he’s had enough of. “Whisper if you see one, okay?” Ashton asks. Max nods without a sound. Both parties continue to walk slowly down this barren street. A lively community once lived right in there, and constant noise and light erupted from it at nighttime. Ashton dislikes what it has become, he really does yet...he finds this eerie silence calm for some strange reason. Max looks to his side and observes Ashton for a second, who towers in comparison. Max, who is not even five feet yet loses savagely to a man who is six feet even. But one day he’ll be as powerful Ashton, who Max adores like the ‘’father’’ he never met. “Pssst.” Ashton whispers, signaling an incoming grosero with his eyes. It a reasonable enough distance away from Max and Ashton. “Okay, watch this.” Ashton. “First step is…” “Posture, followed by reflexe, aim, and firing.” Max says to him. Ashton raises his eyebrows, quite impressed by the young boy’s knack for paying attention. “Alright then. Watch my aim..” “I..think I saw your aim enough. I wanna try shooting it myself.” Max defiantly says. “Huh? You sure about that?” Ashton replies. Max nods. “You know, your mother barely let me take you outside the walls. If she finds out I let you kill one she will not be content, not at all.” Ashton adds. “I won’t tell if you won’t!” Max assures. Ashton sighs in defeat. “Well okay then. Remove the safety and follow the steps, because the grosero is closing in.” Max removes the safety from his firearm and steps forward, bending his knees and avoiding locking his arms together following his step. He then sticks his gun out in front of him with both arms and aims. A second later, he sends a bullet off after the groser in his path. A square hit to the chest but quite a distance aways from the head. He fires again, but no cigar. “Watch that recoil.” Ashton says to him. Max nods and aims once more. Aiming for nothing but the forehead of the grosero he fires a third bullet, one that sinks himself into the cheekbone of the grosero, putting the beast out of its misery. “Nice shot Max! Right the face!” Ashton exclaims, congratulating the boy. “Thanks Ash-” Max is cut off by the sound of a bullet wincing past both of them. Instinctively, Ashton pulls Max away from open street and both dive down for cover behind a turned over car. “What the heck!” Max whispers loudly to Ashton. Ashton signals him to be quiet as he sneaks a peek at the figure but frowns in confusion once he makes out who it is. It is none other than Jaime, equipped with Aguila’s rifle. “Pendejos.” Jaime says. Ashton stands back up and retreats from cover. “Come again?” he says to Jaime. “The damn streets are far from safe and here you are being careless little shits. If I were some kind of bandit or cartel thug I would’ve put one through your skull before Max could turn to see me!” Jaime scolds him. “Is that so? Well not to sound ungrateful but not many of these “hostiles” have your training with a rille.” Ashton retorts in his defense. He feels the need to do so thanks to Jaime not only insulting him, but Max as well. Ashton was fine with being insulted and demeaned, but he was far from okay with letting somebody do the same to Max. “Don’t get cocky with me. I could shoot you right now and no one would bat a fucking eye.” Jaime threatens him. Amidst this verbal interchange, Max arises from his spot. “Jaime sir, I would care. My mom would care. Liza would care, Valdez would, and others would care too. Please calm down.” Max says to him. Jaime simply scoffs in reply. “Do not tell me you plan on shooting a kid.” Ashton comments. “Heh. That’s the thought you think that’s going through my head right now?” “I would not bet my money on anything else.” Ashton responds firmly. “Need I remind who the punk delinquent here is?” “Need I remind you who the one holding a glock at close range here is?” “Heh. You really think you can put one on me before I put one on you?” Jaime asks, this time his scoff turns somber, mean even. “With my kind of weapon, and this distance, I think so.” “Tch. I can make those the last words you’ll ever say.” Jaime threatens him. “I must acknowledge that fact, and if you really want to do this and ‘’kill’’ me I have no objections. I just want you to let the boy first.” Jaime really considers raising his rifle and putting one inside of Ashton, maybe even two. But he snaps out of it, shaking his head while doing so. “Fine. Have your little heroic moment. I’m out of here…” Jaime says. Soon after that, he turns and straps the rifle away, disappearing into the distance. “Jaime is...scary.” Max says. Ashton gives Max an affectionate head rub. “What do you say we just head back now...I think it would be for the best.” Ashton says. Max simply nods and sticks next to Ashton. Soon, both of them begin their short trek back to the safe zone. ---- Later that night, Ashton arrives home, finding most people asleep. He joins Liza in his parent’s bed after a quick shower. “How’d it go with Max today?” she asks. Ashton sighs worriedly. “Not bad, not bad at all. We just...ran into some trouble with somebody.” Ashton responds. This isn’t something Liza was expecting to hear at all so she turns herself around and meets Ashton’s gaze. “What do you mean ‘’trouble’’?” she asks. “It’s Jaime...he really wanted to start a conflict with Max and I. First he fires a bullet at us, insults us, and then threatens us.” he answers. “Wait a minute...us?” Liza says puzzled. “He wanted to shoot Max too?” Liza asks, shocked as ever. “Those eyes...let me just say that they did not lie.” Ashton responds to her. “I’m telling Mendoza about this...he needs to control this-- this lunatic.” Liza replies. But suddenly a realization hits her. Losing someone dear, acting out violently because of it...she’s been here before. Hell, she ‘’has’’ been here for the ;last 6 months...is this what she was going to turn into? “Something wrong, beautiful?” Ashton asks her. “No.” she responds. “Nothing at all…” Trivia *Legend has it that Max originally ate Corn Pops for breakfast, but this upset an entity and Max now eats solely Froot Loops. 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